Calling the owner of CJZ684 (large grey car) – I want to make you (or maybe your employees) famous!

[Well, the owner of CJZ684, a 1998 Subaru Legacy, has quickly been identified as one Raymond Daniel Lee of Grey Lynn. But a word of caution. Mr Lee may not have been driving his car on the day in question. He may have lent it to a relative or friend. Or it may have been stolen by two louts wearing bright orange, high-visibility vests. And the driver’s foul-mouthed companion may have been a sufferer from Tourette Syndrome who deserves our pity not our contempt. All this is possible. So should Mr Lee learn that his name has been published on this site and wish to declare his innocence, I will happily publish any response he wishes to make and apologise profusely for having got it wrong. Can’t say fairer than that.]

Wednesday, around 4pm, I’m driving down Kelmarna Ave in Ponsonby on my way to the Countdown (formerly Woolworths) supermarket in Richmond Road. I’ve had it with the prices at Victoria Park New World, where (incidentally) I can’t buy an economy size tub of Olivio. The people at Victoria Park New World don’t seem to favour economy much. Maybe they think everyone who lives in Ponsonby or Herne Bay is a multi-millionaire.

But I digress. I’m driving down Kelmarna Ave, Hukanui Crescent and Parawai Crescent, which is really just one road with three different names, to Richmond Road. It’s not a route I particularly like. There are seven chicanes between top and bottom and you occasionally get someone even older than me in front of you doing 15K between the chicanes and 1K around them. And occasionally someone up your bum.

I should have mentioned that I was driving my little Smart Car. It’s small but nippy and I’m no slouch behind the wheel. So I’m surprised to find a large grey car about a metre behind me, the distance narrowing to little more than 30 centimetres as we approach each chicane. The driver and his front seat passenger are wearing bright orange high-visibility vests, so they’re almost certainly employed doing something on the roads.

I turn right round the corner into Richmond Road, then right again up the steep driveway to the outdoor Countdown car park. The designer of the speed bumps on the driveway was either a sadist or had shares in a tire repair company, and soft suspension is not a feature of the Smart Car range. To avoid losing my lunch I take it reasonably slowly. The orange vests are close enough to give me a push.

My dander is by now well and truly up. I go hunting for a space, park, grab my planet-friendly shopping bag out of the back of the car and head for the store. There are several ‘handicapped spaces’ just outside the entrance and five spaces for mothers with infants. The stencilled inscriptions say ‘Mother’ and ‘Infant’ and, to avoid any possible misunderstanding, there’s a picture of a push-chair.

I should tell you that I’m one of those annoying people who search for mobility stickers on the dashboards of cars parked in ‘handicapped spaces’ and booster seats in cars parked in spaces for mothers with small children. I think people who illegally park in these spaces are lazy, inconsiderate scum.

Hold on! Isn’t that a large grey car parked in one of the five ‘Mother and Infant’ spaces right next to the Countdown entrance? And isn’t that a youngish man in an orange high-visibility vest sitting in the front passenger seat? His companion is presumably half way through his supermarket shopping by now. He’d tell you, I’m sure, that it’s so much quicker when you steal some mother’s space, or better still one of the disabled parks which are even closer to the door.

The driver’s window is open, a clear invitation to any passer-by to have a chat.

‘You must be the infant then.’

‘What?’

‘You must be the infant.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you’re parked in a space reserved for mothers and infants.

‘Fuck off.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Just fuck off.’

‘And you were tailgating me all the way down Kelmarna.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Hasn’t your mate heard of safe following distances?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Great vocabulary you’ve got there.’

‘Fuck off.’

I decide to fuck off.

‘And learn to fuckin’ drive?’

I can’t resist this promising evidence of a wider vocabulary and return.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘You drive too fuckin’ slow.’

I think, ‘I’ll take a picture of this cretin’s registration and maybe send it to Anna Samways at Sideswipe in the Herald with a pithy version of what happened.’ But I’ve left my mobile at home. Damn! I’ll never remember the registration. I go into the supermarket and ask to borrow a pen, go outside again, stand in front of the car and write the registration number down on my grocery list. CJZ684. Fuck Off stares at me through the windscreen. As I go back into the supermarket his driver mate is just leaving. I think of confronting him but he’s a big fellow and discretion is the better part of valour.

Anyway, I’ve got a better idea. I’ll publish the registration number on my website and ask anyone who knows who owns this vehicle to let me know so I can let everyone else know as well. And if it’s a fleet or company car, all the better.

So if you are the owner of a large grey car, registration CJZ684, or you know who owns a large grey car, registration CJZ684, do get in touch. I’m just dying to know. Treat it as a treasure hunt.

37 Comments:

Nice, well done publishing this. Morons like this are on our roads daily and absolutely drive me insane. Sad thing is people like this are our countries future. Good on you for confronting him, but I can understand not confronting the driver, can be scary, you never know what they will be like. Good luck tracking them down!

This, Brian, is why you need a cellphone with a decent camera (taking it with you helps too) – you could have posted multiple high resolution pictures of the moron-mobile and its occupants for all the world to see…

Not quite right Ken. These blockheads are “part of” our country’s future. They are emphatically NOT the future. Their role is simply to soak up oxygen other people could use to do more useful things – like thinking, or writing comments on Brian’s blog.
Name and shame, Brian, VERY good – but unfortunately neither blockhead 1 nor blockhead 2 will be aware of it as they obviously are not avid readers online or otherwise…o well!

And it is a Japanese import having done about 160,000km. Funny that it seems to have been registered for a 3 month stint. Didn’t know you could do that.
Funny how angry non-certified illegal parkers get if you even look at them pointedly. Some have the orange card OK but leap out of the car and trot inside the supermarket. Very fit. Wonder if they are piggybacking on their aged or infirm mother’s card?

Ianmac, People can have disability stickers for reasons other than being unable to walk properly. For example if you have an autistic child (who can be tricky to get from A to B safely). And I think it would be rude if you are giving that person dirty looks because they seem able bodied with a disabled sticker.

Yes I too wonder about the legitamacy of some orange card holders.
I had the experience of being confronted by a road works vehicle(a light truck overtaking another car on a bridge with a solid yellow line on his side) as I rounded a corner.I pulled over and watched him speed past and noted the company name.Im pleased to say after ringing and speaking to his boss I feel confident that this would never happen again.
I hope you track down their employer.I agree with your stance .

My personal favourite was being overtaken by a van doing at least 70kmh in a 50 area (I’m estimating the speed based on my own 60kmh), which then cut in front of me and drove through a red light on Greenlane. Luckily for me, it was painted in the company livery – that of the AA.

A neat little intro, Brian. And your whole narrative was enlivening as it was funny.

For me, a trip down memory lane. Having flatted at 249 Ponsonby Rd. and worked in the area, I am very familiar with that route, and the obstacle course you have to negotiate around to get to Richmond Rd.

DHC makes a valid point and one to be mindful of, before flashing the evils at a supposedly unthinking and selfish driver. Though, in most instances, the reaction you got from your querying someone hogging a disabled person’s carpark, was to be expected. Even if it happened to be the passenger. (They were wearing the same coloured orange vests).

For all the monosyllabic verbals you took from that pointy-headed cretin, you did get the Olivio in your preferred size?

Years from now they could reminisce together.
“Remember that time you told me that Brian Edwards had complained my tailgating him, and parking in a childcare carpark? And you told him to ‘Fuck off’? That’s the moment when I first realised I loved you…”

Tailgating is the Number One characteristic Driving Crime of New Zealanders.

When they do it to me, my technique is to slow
down little by little – you’d be amazed how long it takes before they realise they’ve (we’ve) almost come to a halt, still only a metre or less from my rear bumper.

BE: It’s tempting but there’s a danger of road rage and you might just come off worst. I don’t think the Traffic people approve. You’re supposed to pull over to the left to let the idiots go past.

Actually, Brian, “road rage” is on my side. I’m ALREADY as mad as hell about these idiots and I’m not taking it any more.

We had a bunch of hoons move into our street a while ago; they started using it as a race track, until I stood in the street and dared them to run me over. Took a few episodes, but eventually they left. Score one for me, and one for pride restored to the neighbourhood.

Great work Brian. I had a similar incident a while ago, a young man in pulled out in front of me nearly knocking me off my bike. Words were exchanged, including him declaring that motorbikes have to give way to cars and that I should “F off”. What comes next may seem a little extreme but it certainly gave me a laugh. I got the ownership details, and found his place of work (a blokey type business). I sent a bunch of flower to the chap via his boss from his “friend Steve, thanking him for a wonderful night”. Bill

For years I have used WAKE UP’s ploy of slowing imperceptibly down when followed by a tailgater. My reasoning is that if I have to stop suddenly I’d rather have them crash into me at a slower speed than the open road limit.

This afternoon when I stopped to allow a dad and his young daughter (say 4 years old) cross at the pedestrian crossing I was abused by the driver behind me. Fingers, swearing, and agro face pulling. I was stunned – seriously what is with that? He was following way too closely and desperate to go more than 50kms an hour in this built up area in the middle of a soccer tournament discharge that was occurring at the local playing grounds. Kids everywhere. The guy sat on my arse for the next 5 minutes abusing me.

The CCS issues mobility stickers and are very interested in information about people abusing them. I rang them once about a car parked in a mobility space in Kingsland all day while the chap who was using it worked on the rail station. The CCS told me that the sticker was issued for the use of a 54 year old woman and that they would contact her and find out who was using her sticker. They are all numbered.

Some days on and we have yet to hear from young Raymond. I don’t suppose, Brian, you have thought of dropping him a line and inviting him to post something? Let’s be fair here. There are about 4 million of us but only about 0.0025% ever post on this blog. There is a substantial potential readership who have yet to get on board.

Nick Iversen said: “Getting tailgated is a sign that you should pull over and let the other car pass. It will be safer for both of you. Being sanctimonious kills.”

Nick: not if you’re already travelling fast, legally , and in the correct lane. Tailgaters are dangerous and illegal, and must be stopped, just as “boy racers” (a ridiculous label) must be. Read my second post about how I stopped the “boy racers” in our street simply by standing in it.

And here’s my concluding remark again: “I’m sick to death of authorities telling the public to roll over.” We have to stand up for ourselves; otherwise, anarchy impercetibly takes over.

Nick, which little bureaucrat are you? You’re the one being sanctimonious.

Where I work, we share the building with several NGO’s who constantly utilise the disabled parking spaces. Nice to see them being used…. The only bug-bear to this workable system is the stream of lazy fattys who descend on the nearby Subway three times a day. I make a point of asking if they’d like a hand with their wheelchair.
I also hear the words “fuck off” a lot… but being a Ginger, of course, I’m used to it.
At least it gets them thinking… maybe. Well done with your crusade, it’s great to have a hobby!